Eternity
by VICTORIA111
Summary: There are little things than differ the Pevensies from other children- these little things, habits, and events are what marks them as Narnians.
1. Secret of the Doe

**7/11/2017**

 **Chapter One: Secret of the Doe**

* * *

Edmund had taken to painting lately.

This day was no different. The art studio at school was empty but for him, and Edmund could be found poring over the canvas. He had already completed a number of pictures- of centaurs and knights and fauns in a snow covered land. There was also one of a great, but terrible looking lady in a white dress, a golden crown on her head and a sharp wand in her hand. When the art master saw it, he was pleasantly surprised. The painting gave him a feeling that Edmund couldn't have painted her so accurately; with every sharp stroke of her features, unless he had once met her himself. But that was impossible; in this world, at least.

Presently the art master entered the studio. He sat down beside Edmund and began to paint, too, of two owls against the night. Neither of them said a word, until he asked:

"Why the doe?"

He was looking at Edmund's painting. It was of an otherworldly beauty- one that he couldn't possibly describe nor achieve,even after all his years spent here surrounded by paints. The painting took place in a beautiful forest. A stream was rushing down the middle, snow covered mountaintops could be seen peeking out over the trees, and a doe was grazing by the stream, its elegant neck stretched straight and high, its clear eyes surveying the viewer.

Edmund looked up for the first time; he was a handsome boy now, more confident since the last summer. His smile was slightly lopsided as he brushed back the shining raven locks hanging over his forehead.

"I have two sisters, sir." He said peacefully. "This painting represents the elder of them- Susan. She's the beauty of the family. There's one of Lucy, too, somewhere around there. She's our light and laughter. They both go to the school across the road; Peter and I visit them, at weekends."

As he was saying this his slim, pale fingers dug around lightly on the tale beside him, and he produced another picture. Whilst the doe painting was all beauty, elegance and grace, this was of passion, fire and love. The rising sun was bursting in the sky; while a majestic lion stood, roaring to the heavens. A young girl was clinging to his mane; her eyes were laughing, and her golden, red hair flew in the wind. It was the best painting the art master had ever seen.

"And this," Edmund continued, "Is Peter's."

It was there again: love and an inner fire. The art master recognized Peter Pevensie, only he was dressed in royal robes, a golden crown atop his head. He was standing on a balcony. And in the distance, a wide, blue sea could be seen- its rolling waters told of freedom beyond all else, and faith. The lion was there again, too- walking steadily on the golden sand of the beach below.

"Well, Edmund," the art master said, "These are wonderful. But what of one for yourself?"

For a moment Edmund's face darkened. But then the expression was gone, replaced by a neutral one once more. He got up to search around on the shelves. Five minutes later, he seemed to have found what he was looking for. It was a grand castle of ice, standing, between the snow- covered peaks of two hills. The art master didn't understand the painting; and he knew, too, that maybe he wasn't supposed to understand. So he let it go, and left Edmund, still working on the painting of Susan.


	2. Under the Oak

**9/11/2017**

 **chapter two: Under the Oak**

* * *

Anthony was crying again.

The bullies seemed to be slowly worming their way into every last inch of his life; and now he always felt a sick fear wherever he went, as if he had, and had never had a home. The great oak was his only solitude; and he always felt that, even now, it was only a matter of time before they eroded this spot too, filled it with hatred and fear. he was shaking as he leaned against the foot of the tree; great, fat tears sliding down the end of his nose.

The wind blew, and he thought he smelt autumn in the breeze; the smell of flowers and herbs and leaves. Anthony took huge gulps of the air, breathing in, relishing the fresh forest scent. But something was wrong. In the wind he thought he could catch a whiff of... was it cologne?

Shadows rustled around him, and Anthony felt the sudden urge to turn and run. He got up from his squat, and, wincing from the soreness of his legs, started away. Suddenly there was a swishing sound behind him. He felt himself being thrown to the ground, an arm around his throat. Yellow and orange leaves stuck to his knees as he opened his mouth to scream.

* * *

Peter looked among the hustling crowd for his brother; but Edmund was nowhere to be seen. No doubt in the art room again- Peter mused silently. He looked back at the cafeteria. It was crowded and filled with the smell of sweat.

No, he wouldn't go there. He would eat his lunch someplace else. In the far distance he spied a tall, grand oak.

It seemed like the perfect place.

* * *

A hand clamped down hard onto his mouth.

"Make a sound," a familiar voice drawled, "And I'll make it so that you won't ever walk again."

* * *

As Peter got nearer and nearer to the oak, he thought he could hear muffled sobs... screams... curses.

He hurried along the pavement.

* * *

Anthony was hurled on to the hard concrete. He rolled over, groaning. Fresh blood seeped from his knees and elbows. A foot kicked him hard in the stomach and he choked on his own saliva, trying to curl up. Someone kicked him in the back then, and he was thrown forward again. Everything became watery... but in the blue blur of the sky above he thought he could see five or six faces swimming into view now and then, sneering down at him.

Someone flipped him onto his back and climbed atop him. A punch was thrown into his face. Another. Then to his stomach. His arms and legs. Anthony could hardly see anymore... but he could hear clearly. Laughs, jeers that then stopped- hurried footsteps, panicked calls...

* * *

Peter rushed to the clearing; the sight he saw made him go tight inside.

Five boys had were kicking a boy in Edmund's class. Anthony, Peter remembered. One of them climbed on top of him and began throwing punches into his face and stomach. Anthony's head was thrown back, his eyes blind with fear. And all Peter could see was the resemblance between him and the long ago Edmund. Without thinking, he charged like an angry, blind bull...

* * *

Anthony felt strong arms around him. He was safe.

* * *

Peter picked up the boy carefully. He was deathly pale and thin. Hazy, soft and dreamy brown eyes peered up at him, and the mouth twisted into a sweet smile. Peter laid a hand on the smooth brown head.

* * *

Later they sat in the hospital wing. Anthony's head was still on Peter's chest, and he was peering tiredly at the bullies who had some to apologize. After they left, Anthony asked Peter warily:

"What if they come for me again?"

"They won't." Peter told him. "God is with you. He won't ever leave- and He is stronger than all."


	3. Melody of the High Heavens

**3/2/2018**

 **Please review if you liked it. :) Feel free to request any other stories that you would like me to do, or if there is something that you would like to see happen in this story.**

* * *

Lucy had taken to music lately.

It wasn't really something which she could describe accurately. Just a swift feeling in the depths of her, a feeling that, as soon as she heard the melodies, she would be set free. She would be unbound from the Shadowlands and fly up to the High Heavens in the form of the Queen that she was supposed to be.

First was the flute. She had fallen in love with the shining, clean silver instrument, with its tone reminder her of Mr Tumnus's olden instrument that had lulled her to sleep in Cair Paravel, while the fresh, salty sea air from her window floating in from _her_ eastern sea and wafted into her face. She knew that it would never be the same. That everything in Narnia would be a rich enpalement in her heart. That in the Shadowlands, the best she could do was conjure up weak versions of what had once been her everyday pleasures.

But of the four she was the most optimistic. She knew Aslan was still there. Sometimes, she thought she could hear him again.

She practiced regularly. She was not a child prodigy. Nothing came without work. Her favorite was Bizet's intermezzo. When she played it, its pleasant, soft, tone, it was almost as if the music itself was describing Narnia. God was an artist and a musician, she knew. He was everything that we were and more.

Soon she had started writing music. At first it was just playing whatever random notes she felt like and stringing them together, but after her music teacher had heard a few of her compositions, it became serious. They had learnt fully about scales. The happy ones, the sad, the formal... The teacher had printed out sheets for her, blank save for the five lines on each degree, and she had filled them with ingenious melodies.

Next was piano. It was the base instrument for music, and she loved it. The snow white keys seemed to swim in front of her and arrange themselves in the order to be played in. Her favorite piece was Pachelbel's Canon in D. It was inviting, it was beautiful, and she saw in it the otherworldly beauty in the realm of music which could only be discovered by true musicians.

Last was the ukulele. She had never understood the need for the instrument to be 'in tune'. So she had twisted the top buttons, until she was satisfied with the result. It gave a strange, eerie, but beautiful sound. It reminded her of the once snow- capped mountains and hills, in the middle of which lay the White Witch's castle.

Lucy loved music, for with it came a joy like no other. Aslan's creations were ingenius, she decided. Not that she'd ever forgotten that.

* * *

 **Have any ideas what Susan's hobby could be? ;)**


	4. Love is the Higher Law

**This Susan's chapter on motherly love. ;) Narniaismyhomeforever came up with this idea and I loved it. Who would you like to see next? The title is based on when I heard of David Levithan's book named _Love is the Higher Law._**

 **Also Whitemiko12 suggested acting. I love this idea too and it'll be put in a future chapter. ;)**

* * *

4\. Love is the Higher Law

Queen Susan the Gentle might have lost the crown, but she would never lose what she learnt from it.

* * *

Athena May stood in front of the floor length mirror in her dorm and fought the urge to cry as she stared at her reflection. In all those years of childhood, ten year old Athena had never really cared about her looks. Her mother had always told her that she was beautiful and she had believed it. Now she was imagining otherwise.

It was only this afternoon that the girls had caught her in the bathroom and made fun of her.

 _"Athena? What kind of name is that?"_

She had missed the scorn and ridicule in the voice then, and thought it mere curiosity.

 _"It's the Greek Goddess of Wisdom."_

 _Meika snorted and tucked her smooth brown hair behind one ear, smoothing her pink shirt as she did so. "Of wisdom. So, what you mean is, you're a nerd. You're named after a nerd. You like maths and science and all those geeky things." She stared hard, daring Athena to contradict her._

 _"Well..."_

 _Athena did like maths and science. They were fascinating. But even she was starting to realize that saying her mind aloud might not be the best idea. She had never encountered bullies in primary. Should she run? Hide? Lock herself in one of the bathroom cubicles?_

 _"What's wrong with your hair?" One of the other girls asked. Her name was Mackenzie, Athena remembered._

 _Athena touched her limp brown hair. She didn't think anything was wrong with it. It was brushed and straight and without free of dandruff. If anything was wrong then she saw it in Mackenzie, who had bright pink and purple strands in her hair. But she kept her mouth shut._

 _"Nothing." She squeaked._

 _"More like what's wrong with her face," Meika snorted scornfully. They all laughed, and Athena could suddenly see herself from a stranger's point of view. Scrawny, plain, and... she had never used the word... ugly._

* * *

Susan was a mother hen. But her love extended beyond just her siblings.

There was a year six girl who had been looking off lately- Athena, she thought it was. And Susan was determined to fix it.

Lately Athena had looked paler than usual, given that her complexion was usually a healthy olive tone. Her eyes were always red and puffy not just in the mornings, but halfway through the day as well, giving the hint that she had been crying at night. There were dark bags under her eyes, and she had been eating less and less until she had just stopped coming to mealtimes altogether.

Later that night Susan found her room and sought her out.

* * *

Athena watched the older girl step in. Susan was radiantly beautiful. The thought made her... bitter. Another feeling that her innocent childhood had never experienced before. But she smiled at Susan wetly through her tears and told the older girl of her woes.

* * *

Susan sat on the bed, Athena's face finally looking restful in sleep as she cradled the thin haired head in her lap. Her lids flickered open briefly, looking, wide- eyed, up at Susan.

"I wish I was as pretty as you." Athena murmured.

Susan smiled.

"There's a difference between pretty and beautiful." She told her. "Some people- even Meika is pretty on the outside. But surface beauty will last but ten years. And then," she brushed Athena's hair back from her forehead, "There are people who are beautiful in the interior, and inner beauty lasts for Eternity."

* * *

 **Again, what would you like to read next? Ideas for other stories would be appreciated too.**


	5. The Eastern Sea

**7/2/2018**

 **The Eastern Sea**

 **Hey!:) This is another short story about Lucy. Please review if you liked it.**

* * *

The wind blew furiously, sweeping her wet hair to the side. The horizon was far beyond, a speck in the distance. Lucy caught the next wave with ease, tasting the salty water and stroking the mermaids that weren't there, and only would be present in another world that was missing to her.

She loved surfing.

It was partly the sea. Her own sea, full of the familiar smells and sensations and easiness. Full of reminders, of Narnia. The kingdom on the other side of the wardrobe. The one that she had missed for so long.

"Go, Lu!"

It was Edmund. He was watching, side by side with Peter and Susan. People gave them a wide berth, edging to something close to reverence and admiration. Several boys were eyeing Susan in an almost hungry way, but they backed off as soon as they were presented with Peter's glare and Edmund's closed, pale fist. Susan was a beauty in the full glory of her teenage years.

She was winning. She had never lost a surfing competition.

The waves in Hawaii were taller than seven of about twenty of her height put together. She felt miniature as she ducked under the biggest one yet and resolved to not let it wipe her out. She felt free, almost as if she was flying- it was as close as she would get. This was definitely faster and crazier than skateboarding.

Their parents had taken them to Hawaii for the last days of the holiday before they went back to boarding school again. Lucy was dreading it. She felt further away from Narnia than ever.

She swept from under the wave and climbed ashore, grinning. Susan hugged her, despite her being soaked. Peter looked so proud it almost made Lucy uncomfortable. Edmund was smiling his familiar, crooked smile. And in the Golden sunshine under a blazing sky with the sea beside her, Lucy felt finally at home in the Shadowlands.

* * *

 **Sorry, this one is really short. :(**


	6. Swan Lake

**8/2/2018**

 **This is a short story on Susan and her new hobby. Credits to Whitemiko12 for coming up with the idea.**

* * *

 **6\. Swan Lake**

Looking after and mothering half the school took up most of her time... but of course there were loads more for her to spend. Susan took up a new hobby that allowed her to transform, almost magically, into someone else- acting.

* * *

There were classes every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon in the drama room, after the periods of class had been finished. Susan's class consisted of only seven people, including her. But mixed together with the other groups, they were walking on a play named Swan Lake, adapted from the ballet version which had once taken to the Royal Opera House.

For the princess, the director had needed to cast someone preferably lithe, graceful, dark- haired, blue eyed, beautiful, and a fine actress. There was a certain someone that fit all those categories perfectly.

For director Jim Browan, Susan Pevensie was a miracle. Someone perfect for the role.

* * *

Susan slipped into the lush dress, letting it sweep behind her. It reminded her of the fine dresses she had owned once back in Cair Paravel. She had been a Queen once. Acting a princess was going to be a piece of cake.

* * *

The dress rehearsal went on and all the actors marveled at Susan Pevensie.

* * *

It was the big night. Helen Pevensie sat in the audience, side by side with her husband and children, save for Susan. Then the music sounded and the curtain went up.

* * *

Susan smiled as the curtain lifted. She could see Peter and Edmund and Lucy in the audience, along with her parents. And suddenly she wasn't worried. She had it all covered. Aslan was with her.

* * *

 **What would you like to read next? I'm thinking of doing a Harry Potter one with lots of short stories as well.**


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